


seventeen

by plainlily



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Angst, Depression, No Character Death, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Thoughts, self-deprecation, suicidal behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-10-19 14:34:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17603162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plainlily/pseuds/plainlily
Summary: he’s an idol.he shouldn’t be feeling like this.he didn’t used to feel like this.until he did.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> tw; please heed ALL of the tags/warnings. if you do decide to read this knowing it may trigger you, please be safe and reach out if you need to. for those who do read safely, please let me know if there's any tags you think should be added.
> 
> a couple of things;
> 
> i scratched my chensung soulmate au, something about it wasn't working to begin with but especially after my seasonal depression hit. i may or may not rework and repost it.
> 
> thank you for all the lovely comments on "to call (for hands of above)". <3
> 
> 'soft kisses' will be continued, though i'm not sure when. i also had trouble w that one because of the weather change and then i didn't feel right writing or posting it after donghyuck got hurt.
> 
> there will be another very long author's note about this particular piece at the end. for now, thank you for all of your support, thank you for reading, and once again, please do take care of yourselves in every way possible. if you ever feel alone, my email inbox is open and i welcome anyone to message me. i'm not always in the best place myself but i promise i can at least listen. 653tinker@gmail.com

 

 

 

there was a time when chenle didn’t love anything more than life. there was nothing better, after all. people and animals and flowers and laughter and good food and happy music and _friends_. true, the world wasn’t always good to _everyone_ , but chenle? his life? chenle had everything he ever wanted, and more.

so why is he here, exactly? he wonders. leaning against the railing of a bridge that stretches over a huge, cold and unforgiving river. with glove-covered hands and coat-covered arms that twitch to haul his body on top of it. legs that itch to jump.

it won’t actually solve anything, he knows. he just wishes he knew what was wrong with him, what made him feel so- so displaced.

so _empty_.

 

 

 

all he ever did was love life, until suddenly, he _didn’t_. because while he may have had everything he ever wanted, he could never be what everyone _else_ wanted.

 

“ _you’re too loud_.”

“ _you can’t dance_.”

“ _you need to lose weight_.”

“ _you need to_ **_grow up_**.”

 

but- words are just words, aren’t they? they used to be. chenle never used to worry very much about meeting others’ expectations, until suddenly, he _did_. until suddenly he was kept up late at night by those words ( _just words, just words_ ) echoing in his head.

he used to think he was making other people happy just by being himself. but what if- what if they were just pretending? pretending not to find him annoying and- and obnoxious and dumb? what if no one even wanted him around? maybe they didn’t.

they probably didn’t.

 

 

 

chenle was happy _every day_ , until he wasn’t. until he realized how inadequate he really was, how immature and foolish and _ugly_.

he spent one long night just staring at himself in the mirror for hours, wondering how every single one of his features had come out so _wrong_ \- nose far too big, eyes too small, cheeks too wide and strangely angled.

he supposed his smile was okay. only, he’d read comments about how his laugh had lowered and cracked and that the fans didn’t like it anymore. and he already knew he didn’t have as many fans as the others- who was to say he had any fans at all? why would anyone truly be a fan of _him_?

he could still sing prettily, he hoped. he didn’t know for sure. maybe he was only getting lines because the company felt bad for him. ugly, worthless, and now _talentless_ zhong chenle, who they were now stuck with by contract. maybe they pitied him.

he wouldn’t blame them.

 

 

 

he never had any of these thoughts, until he did. and chenle didn’t know who or what to blame. was it just him realizing the truth? or his dumb teenage hormones? something in the air?

he decided to never act like anything was wrong, even though he was so, so lost. even though he felt like the biggest burden in the world. because if he acted differently, someone might notice. and if someone noticed, they might ask.

he didn’t wish to confide in any of his members, because he didn’t know what he was more afraid to hear- a half-hearted disagreement, accompanied by a dozen pointless platitudes, or a confirmation, that he really was an annoying, useless waste of space, a dead weight holding back the success of the entire group.

an ugly, rotten burden.

 

 

 

he’s an idol.

he shouldn’t be feeling like this.

 

he didn’t used to feel like this.

until he did.

 

 

 

something led his feet here. something put this bounce into his soles, this urge to push himself over, to end everything, all of the stupid inner turmoil. the sky is a solid light gray today. the air bites slightly. how cold might the water be?

seventeen years old, chenle thinks, looking down over the rail. he knows the water is deep, but it’s such a high bridge. how far under would the energy of his fall send him? he still hasn’t lost all the weight he was supposed too, but he knows he’s not _that_ heavy.

how might the water taste? how might it burn in his lungs as they scream for air instead? how quickly might he lose consciousness and-

 

he’s seventeen.

he has time, probably. chenle bites his lip, chapped by the wind. he has time to figure out all that’s wrong, to fix it. whatever 'it' is. himself.

it could be worse.

he could be heartbroken.

he’s not. in fact, he’s in love.

just, not with life. with a boy.

although- he loved life before, right? might he love it again? should he chance it? (he may become _more_ miserable, after all.) should he try to let the one brightness he has left shine light into the rest of him?

his phone buzzes in his coat pocket.

in love with a boy, chenle thinks, slipping his phone out of his pocket and staring down at the caller ID. at the row of colored heart emojis and the small, months-old picture of him and jisung, carefree and smiling and for chenle, in love.

he lets the call go to voicemail.

 

 

 

chenle is seventeen.

the bridge is decades old. it has seen many, many a boy like chenle. maybe some of them were in love, too. maybe not.

the bridge will be here tomorrow.

chenle, he decides, won’t be.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

chenle will be breathing, living, avoiding temptation, somewhere that  _ isn’t _ here,  _ isn’t _ this railing,  _ isn’t _ this bridge.

 

chenle will be seventeen. and in love. and breathing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

chenle will be eighteen. and loved. and in love with life again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, this fic is quite dark, but i wrote it as a kind of catharsis. many of the feelings and thoughts represented in it are ones i have towards myself every year when it becomes cold and dark out.
> 
> please know that Chenle is my ultimate bias in NCT and i love him very very much, and i hope he knows how amazing he is and always thinks good thoughts about himself. this is fiction, and with it i mean no harm towards him or anyone's image of him.
> 
> the ending message of this fic is not that romantic love for or from another person will save you. again, this is fiction. for some people that is true, but for most, including myself, it is not. healing from depression or being in a suicidal state is almost never that simple. but that doesn’t mean it’s impossible. everyone is capable of healing. we were made to do it. when we give them rest, and time, our bodies do it naturally. with rest, and with time, our souls can do it too.
> 
> there are many things to live for. do it for yourself. do it for the flowers. if you feel like you have nothing right now, do it for the rainbows you haven’t seen, the jokes you haven’t made, and the smiles you haven’t smiled, your favorite songs you haven’t heard. they’re coming. they’re there. please reach out.

**Author's Note:**

> <https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/>   
>  <http://www.suicide.org/international-suicide-hotlines.html>


End file.
